He Did What?
by Girl.Interpreted
Summary: [ONESHOT] [Companion to After the Fall] What exactly did happen that night at the McLeods' bar?


**Title:** _He. Did. **What**!?_

**Author:** Girl.Interpreted

**Timeline:** Just prior to the start of my story, After the Fall

**Pairings: **Vash/Meryl, Millie/Jeremy? (who the heck is he?)

**Genre:** General

**Rating:** T- for violence, language, and sexually suggestive bar-talk.

**Archive: **Please contact me for permission.

**Disclaimer:** Trigun, its characters and universe, are the intellectual property of their respective owners. I am merely borrowing for entertainment purposes. I make no claims of ownership, nor do I profit from my storytelling.

**Summary:** Remember that part in the first chapter of my story, After the Fall, when Rosana is telling Meryl about what Vash did the night before? You know, when he punches some creep for talking smack about her? If not, you should go read it, or this one-shot won't make any sense.

**A/N:** What am I doing writing one-shot companion pieces when I haven't even finished the main story? Relax. Chapter three is in the bag. I just got restless waiting on my beautiful betas, and thus this story was born. And in case you were wondering: Yes, I have a life, and no, I don't sleep. Enjoy!

* * *

"Good evening, Mr. Vash." Rosana smiled brightly at the young man with beautiful eyes and peculiar hair.

"Hey there, gorgeous! Lemme get a beer, please." Vash grinned just as broadly at his favorite barkeep.

"Watch it, kid! No flirting with my lady." Mac winked at Vash, giving his wife a kiss on the cheek as she poured the pint.

"No, sir. Wouldn't dream of it." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Rosana, and she laughed before walking away to help another customer.

Vash settled in to enjoy his beer. The bar was really crowded tonight, and a bunch of the workers from the well stopped over to say hello. He talked, bought a few drinks, accepted a few drinks, even played a few hands of cards. Which he lost, but that spurred another round of drink-buying, so he didn't really mind.

He ended up back at the bar, and soon he was approached by a young man. He seemed nervous, and was twisting his hat in his hands. "Excuse me, Mr. Vash, sir?"

"Hi! Do we know each other?"

"No, sir. My name's Jeremy. I work at the well with Miss Millie." He didn't seem to be able to look Vash in the eye.

Vash shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Jeremy. But please, don't call me 'sir'. It's just 'Vash', okay?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Vash."

Vash sighed and gave up. "So what's going on, Jeremy?"

"Well, I know that you're friends with Miss Millie, and she speaks awfully highly of you..." He seemed to gain a little courage, and took the stool next to Vash.

"Yeah, Millie's the best." He signaled to Rosana for another round.

"I know! She's great!" Jeremy enthusiastically agreed. "Well, since you're such good friends and all, I was hoping... well, maybe you could tell me... if, um, she's seeing anyone?"

Vash looked at the hopeful young man who was breathlessly awaiting his answer. _Oh, this is tricky._ "Well, er, Jeremy. The thing about Millie..."

Suddenly a conversation a few seats down had Vash's full attention. He'd heard a name: Meryl. He looked over Jeremy's shoulder, the young man's girl-trouble forgotten.

"Sir?" Jeremy asked uncertainly.

"Hold on a sec, Jeremy." Jeremy turned to see what Mr. Vash was looking at so intently, and found Anthony Trivolli surrounded by a bunch of his friends.

"No, man, I'm telling you I've had her."

"Any good?"

"Goddamn wildcat. Couldn't get her off me." Anthony laughed and turned to bark at Rosana. "Oi! Let's get another drink over here!"

Rosana frowned, but Anthony paid her no attention. "Anyway, I'd highly recommend her."

"Hey, didn't she hit you over the head with a tray last week?" one of his buddies asked.

Anthony shook his head. "She's just sore that I don't want to hang around with her no more. You know what they say the difference is between a woman and a toilet seat?"

Several heads shook 'no'.

"Toilet seat don't follow you around after you're done using it!" The group erupted in laughter, and Anthony roared at his own genius wit. Jeremy watched as Mr. Vash rose from his stool and approached the gathering. He was very calm, and still smiling, but Jeremy thought he saw his jaw twitch as he passed.

"Hey there, guys!" Vash's smile was bright and disarming.

"What do you want, freak?" Anthony snorted.

"Well, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. And I happen to know Meryl, and I happen to know that what you said isn't true. It's embarrassing to get beat up on by a lady, heck, she hits me all the time. But even though she seems kinda bitchy, she's actually a really nice girl. So maybe you want to take back the things you said about her. What do you think?" Vash finished with a grin that was fixed and overly pleasant.

Anthony looked around at his expectant friends, and then back at the idiotic goof in front of him. He stood and stepped up to Vash. "I think, that you, can go fuck yourself."

Anthony would have laughed again, but the fist connected with his face before the chuckle could escape. He stumbled backwards, and would have hit the ground, except the fist was suddenly gripping the neck of his shirt. The idiotic goof was gone, and Anthony was left inches away from the face of Fury incarnate, the demon's eyes electric and terrifying.

Vash's voice was a low growl. It echoed in the suddenly quiet room. "Listen carefully, because I will only warn you once: Meryl Stryfe is _my_ girl. If you touch her. If you upset her. If you even _think_ poorly of her. You _will_ answer to me. Do we understand each other?"

Anthony nodded as best he could with his collar bunched in Vash's fist. He was vaguely aware of the blood running down the sides of his face, and the crunching pain in his nose.

"I can't hear you," Vash said.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry! I never touched her! I'm a liar!" Anthony was confessing, and crying, in front of every man in town, and he didn't care.

"I know you are." Vash released him, and Anthony slumped gratefully to the floor. The man they now knew to truly be 'Vash the Stampede', looked around at Anthony's gang of friends. Every man held his breath until they saw the gunman's shoulders relax. "Get him over to the doctor's. His nose is broken."

Vash made his way through the silent bar. Every set of eyes locked on his tall frame. "I'm real sorry, Mac." He looked honestly ashamed.

"Hey, don't worry about it, kid." Mac came out from behind the bar, and put his arm around Vash's shoulder.

"Okay, boys! Show's over! Who needs a drink?" Rosana's voice and clapping hands shook the stunned crowd, and soon the murmur of talking and clinking glasses resumed.

Mac walked Vash to the door. The poor boy seemed really upset. "Hey, he had that coming. Don't you think twice about it. I've done worse in the name of love."

"Love, huh?" A smile tugged at the stubborn corners of Vash's mouth.

"Nothing finer," Mac declared. "Get home safe, buddy. And I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Mac. Tell Rosie that I'm sorry."

Mac gave Vash a departing pat on the shoulder, and headed back inside the bar. Anthony's buddies had picked him up off the floor and he was complaining loudly as a rag was held to his nose. The other patrons seemed to have lost interest in him, and were getting back to whatever they had last been doing or drinking.

"Wow! That was something." Rosana breathed when her husband reached her side.

"I know." He nodded gravely.

Rosana's mouth turned into a grin, as her eyes took on a mischievous light. "I can't wait to tell Meryl."


End file.
